Forgotten Memories
by seyella
Summary: An AU where Prussia really did disappear.


There was a man in the picture. He had piercing red eyes, silver hair, and a mouth that was tilted into a wide smile. The man had seemed to be in a lot of his pictures, Germany had found. His presence was known in the photos, the familiarity of him was there; there was no denying it. But the truth was, Germany had no idea who this mysterious man was.

Germany was a very young country in comparison to the others, but had experienced much in his lifetime. World War I and World War II were remarkably unfortunate in addition to the depression he had suffered between the wars. At one point, inflation had gotten so high that people would pay for their meals before they ate in fear that the price would rise by the time they had finished eating. He was a new country, he hadn't known what to do with wars, let alone a depression, he was never taught. Or at least he didn't think he was. Was he? He felt as if there was someone who had taught him, raised him; there had to be. The problem was, he couldn't remember. Were his memories slipping away or was his mind playing tricks on him?

If someone had taught him, wouldn't he have known how to deal with the events better than he had? There must've not been someone, then. Germany couldn't remember, so it really must have been his mind playing tricks on him.

Germany closed the photo book and placed it in a box labeled "memories", sliding it underneath his bed next to some books he had received from a friend a decade ago or so.

He sighed, rubbing his temple and standing up from his place on the carpet. Germany grimaced. How long had it been since he had cleaned the floor? Earlier, was it? It hadn't seemed like earlier, given the little pieces of dog fur covering the floor. But then again, dogs did tend to be a hassle, especially around this time of year when they would shed enough fur to make an entirely new carpet.

"Aster," Germany called the dog's name once, barely a shout, and in a few moments, a little brown dachshund came trotting into the room, as fast as her short legs would carry her.

He wasn't going to yell at her for getting the carpet dirty, she was not to blame. He had only wanted to pet her… hadn't he? At this point, he didn't know. His mouth had more control than his mind, a dangerous territory to enter, even if this once it had only been him calling for a dog. Too much was on his mind, he couldn't think rationally. The reason why was unbeknownst to him, for the most part. It must have been… that man. He tried to push the subject to the back of his mind, but it was there, it was always there. With that being the case, why couldn't he remember?

Germany let out a deep sigh and picked up Aster from the ground. She had seemed to be gaining weight, what food was he giving her again? He really ought to stop feeding her table scraps, it had shown to not be good for her weight. Germany rubbed Aster's stomach for a few moments, only to set her down on the ground afterwards. She quickly scampered away once her feet touched the ground, most likely to her food dish.

Maybe… he should talk to someone about the photos? They would all think he was crazy, though. "Germany, you're just seeing things. That's just a normal German. Probably just someone in the military or something", they would say. But… they wouldn't understand. Saying that this man was "just someone in the military"... Germany couldn't help but feel weird and a bit heartbroken at the thought of someone saying such a thing. With the notion in mind, Germany made the rash decision of calling Austria and asking him what he thinks.

Austria picked up on the second ring, not a surprise. He was never in much a hurry to do anything - he was a very laid back man.

"Yes?" Austria's voice was calm.

"Uh, hello, Austria. Can I ask you something?" Germany chewed his lip, a bit nervous as to the strange question he was about to ask.

"You want to ask me something? Mm, go ahead."

Germany coughed awkwardly. He wasn't sure what to expect of Austria's answer. "There is this man in many of my pictures… I mean, it's strange. He seems familiar, but I have no idea who he is. In all of my days, I do not recognise him, but I can't help but notice his striking familiarity," he paused to consider his next wording, "he has, er, had… silver hair and red eyes. I just wanted to know what you thought."

Austria didn't answer right away, much to Germany's dismay. He usually wasn't this impatient, but strangely, he was nervous. What would Austria think of his wandering mind?

It was only about ten seconds of silence, but to Germany, it felt like a century had passed. Finally, he heard a light, breathy choke from the other line, then a deep breath, which he assumed had been Austria composing (no pun intended) himself.

"Red eyes sound familiar, but the silver hair could just be an old man. What year was this in?"

Germany didn't answer his question; instead, he asked, "Where are you right now? Could you come over?"

"I doubt I'll be able to come over, although I am visiting Czech in Prague at the moment. I'm assuming you're in Berlin?"

"Yes, I am. Uh, should I text you the picture? I don't mean to bother you-"

"You're not bothering me, I'm not busy today, just taking a break."

Although Austria had already fought off his nervosity, Germany couldn't help but still feel the anxiety crawling underneath his skin. "Yeah! Uh, thanks. You, you know what? You don't need to come over, it's fine. It's fine. I'll just keep the picture and won't bother you anymore… yeah." And then hung up. This was odd, Germany wasn't acting like himself. He needed to cool off and not think of whatever problems were on his mind.

"I think… I'll call Italy to see what he's up to, yeah…" Although no one else was in the room, Germany spoke aloud. He was only trying to calm himself down.

Just as Germany began to unlock his phone, he noticed something from the corner of his eye. An old uniform of his, hanging up in the wardrobe. It was missing something, though…

The Iron Cross.

" _What?"_

" _It's the Iron Cross! It's one of the symbols of the Prussian military," A man, with narrow red eyes and silver hair, grinned at his little brother. He held out a small pin to the boy, who clasped it tightly in his small hand, fingers barely touching. His big brother was so cool._

 _The young Germany looked up at his brother with big, bright eyes. Prussia, upon seeing his little brother's response, beamed proudly and continued with his speech._

" _It's only for the best of the military! And I know you're going to be big and powerful like me someday, you might even have your own empire!"_

 _Prussia's talk of Germany's future excited him. What would he be like in the future? The future was unknown, but all he hoped was that his big brother was alongside him throughout it. He didn't know what he would do without him._

 _Germany nodded once, grasping onto the Iron Cross even tighter. Prussia noticed this, and scruffed the boy's head. "With me by your side, there's nothing you can't accomplish!"_

 _The boy looked up and smiled. He had a future ahead of him, and his big brother would lead him through it all the way._

The Iron Cross.

Germany looked at it as if he was seeing it for the first time again. He had… been given the pin… by someone? Who was it, though? And why were all of these memories suddenly rushing back to him?

Germany picked up the pin from the ground and felt it in his hands. It was much smaller than he remembered. When he had first received it, it could barely fit in his hand, he was just a child then. Now, it was smaller than his palm. So much had changed in the past century he had been alive… He remembered much of it, but couldn't help but let other parts slip away. Only if he knew what those parts were.

Rather than putting the pin back on the uniform, Germany set it on his desk. There was a box of old letters on his desk, beside the lamp. He had taken them from another spot and placed them on the desk earlier that month and had been meaning to look through them. Maybe he should read some… for nostalgia's sake?

The letters were folded into musty, stained envelopes; the paper wilted away at the edges, an effect of being so old. Germany carefully opened the lid to the container and pulled out one of the many letters, this one seemingly without an envelope, opening it.

It turned out to be not a letter, but an old recipe that Italy gave him when they first began their alliance. A recipe for some absurd Italian dish that didn't seem to be very popular nowadays. Germany folded the recipe and placed it back into the box, pulling out the first envelope.

This one did happen to be a letter, from, once again, Italy. It was fairly recent, most likely sent in the 1970's or 80's. How many of Italy's things were going to be in this box?

Germany rummaged through the box, searching for an envelope that looked older than the rest, and finally found one, all the way in the back. He really ought to organise the box… but that was for a later time.

As he unfolded the letter, he could smell the musty scent of the paper and the wilted ribbon that came along with it.

The handwriting was delicate and old-fashioned, the letters curving across each other throughout the paper.

 **26 January 1890**

 **Dear Germany,**

 **Hey! It's the coolest big brother in the world! Sorry I haven't been around lately. There's been a lot going on lately, I've been so busy! Something big is happening in history, I can feel it. They have me off doing boring country stuff, ughh. I was speaking with Austria about stuff from decades ago, the other day. And I forgot what a rotzlöffel he is! Hey, if you see Austria, tell him I told him to suck it! This is shorter than most letters, but I'll be back soon. I hate to leave you on your own at such a young age. I don't mean it, they just have me doing really boring stuff lately! I'll see you soon, hopefully.**

 **Love,**

 **Prussia**

Germany's eyes ghosted over the paper, rereading the words over and over again.

"Prussia…" Germany spoke the name softly, just barely above a whisper.

That was a country, now a part of Germany and Poland. But… wasn't he just Prussia? Germany and Prussia were one, there was… there was never a Prussia.

Germany suddenly felt light headed. Was he losing his memory or was his mind playing tricks on him? He was a young country, he should remember most, if not all, of his days. Wouldn't he have remembered a Prussia?

He thought about dialing Austria's number again, but decided against it. This was a problem for himself to settle, he mustn't get Austria into it. But… it did mention his name in the letter? Maybe he should…

Germany was completely and utterly torn. Everything was confusing and frankly, he had no idea what to do or even think in a situation such as this.

So, he pulled out another letter from the back. It was dated 1930, just before the beginning of World War II. Once again, it was not a letter, but this time, a journal entry that Germany could only vaguely remember writing.

 **18 June 1930**

 **It's 1930, the start of a new decade.** **Although it is already six months into the year, it feels like so much has happened, despite nothing notable actually occurring. I was speaking with Austria and Hungary yesterday, they are visiting due to some free time they had. Their marriage seems to be going fairly well, nothing bad has happened thus far. I must admit, it is a bit strange to see the two together in the way they are now. I can't exactly explain it, but I'll assume you know what I mean because we're the same person. Prussia is in the kitchen right now baking something (it smells delicious, I may ask him for a helping), I would tell him to clean up his mess but he appears to be very good at keeping up with messes and cleanliness in general. We've only been living together for a short time; it's going better than I had initially thought. Despite the way he acts, he's a very good big brother and a nice housemate.**

There it was again… Prussia… And… in this letter, apparently Germany had been his housemate. In addition to that, he called him his… brother. The word seemed foreign to him; Germany had no siblings. He only had one relative (nevermind the German states, he had never counted those because they came together to form him, they were a part of him, in a way.) that he could recall, and that was Germania. But Prussia… this was new. Germany opened another letter to find out more. Once more, it was yet another journal entry from himself, dated just two days subsequent to the prior.

 _ **20 June 1930**_

 _ **I'm worried about Prussia. He has been acting… strange lately. Not usual Prussia strange, but strange-strange.. A different strange. He's acting abnormal, and that's saying something for him. He hasn't been his usual exuberant self lately and I don't think even he realises. The other day, we were sitting down together, and he said nothing for the entire thirty minutes we were there, absolutely nothing. It's very unusual, to say the least. I wonder if something is wrong with him? Or if there is something going on in Prussia? He hasn't told me anything and I have not heard anything in regards to the vents of the country...**_

 _Germany finished the entry abruptly, not knowing what else to write. He had already written about Prussia, hadn't he? The reasons were unknown to him, his older brother had just been on his mind for a couple of days. He couldn't help but worry. Prussia had raised him, helped him become who he was today; didn't he owe it to him to look out for him? Nevertheless, Prussia did get into quite the lot of trouble, so Germany, being the more responsible of the two, had always been the one to help. Germany had never really found himself in trouble, but, when push came to shove, he was sure Prussia would be the one to help him out (that is, if the two weren't in the situation together)._

" _Prussia?" Germany called his brother's name, still sitting in the chair at his desk. Prussia came bursting (quite literally) into the room after a few seconds, that stupid grin of his still on his face, as always. He never did stop smiling._

" _Yeah?"_

" _Have you began cooking supper?"_

 _Prussia put his hand on his chin, taking a moment to think, then eventually hummed, "No, I thought you were going to make it?"_

 _Germany sighed. "No, you were supposed to. The recipe is on the tabletop."_

" _Ugh, alright! But this is going to be the best supper ever, you just watch! If I'm making it, it's bound to be great!" There it was again, that blatant grin. At the time, Germany thought that nothing would ever get him to stop smiling. Even if the absolute worse happened, Prussia would still put on that smile and pretend everything was okay, just to not make Germany worry. He was an idiot… Always doing things for Germany and looking out for him, not even bothering to look out for himself for a change. Even with how much stronger Germany had gotten than him lately, nothing would ever deter Prussia's determination to make sure his little brother was happy and content._

 _It was twenty minutes later when Germany found him._

 _The first time he had called out his name, there was no reply. Naturally, rather than thinking there was anything wrong, he had simply assumed that Prussia had not heard him due to the sizzling of the sausages on the stovetop. At the second call, when Prussia had yet to reply, Germany gave up on calling the man, and instead made his way downstairs to the kitchen._

 _Only to find his brother passed out onto the ground, smoke filling the room._

 _Quickly, Germany turned off the stovetop and kneeled to the ground beside Prussia. The room was so smokey, he could barely see him, but now was not the time to worry about something with such little importance as smoke. Right now, the most important thing was his big brother._

 _This idiot. This complete buffoon. What was he thinking, passing out onto the ground like this? Did he feel sick before? If he did, was he hiding it from Germany? This idiot. Idiot idiot, absolute and complete idiot._

 _Germany repeated the words over and over in his head, checking for a pulse on Prussia. As Germany put his two fingers on Prussia's neck, he carefully stopped all movement in hopes of a slight beat. The beat came slowly, but Germany was just happy it came._

 _Prussia… acted so strong. He acted as if he were king of the world, the universe, where nothing could stop him. He was unstoppable, in a way. His spirit. Even after he passed on, whenever that may be, his spirit would still live on. It was so strong._

 _Germany quickly and tightly shut his eyes in fear of falling tears. He mustn't cry at a time like this. He was supposed to be the responsible one. What was he to do now?_

Germany shook sporadically, finding himself once more in his bedroom (the flashback had been so surreal… as if he had been experiencing it all over again), clutching the letter in hand.

He… remembered the day so vividly. Prussia… his… brother? Yes, he could vaguely remember it, as eloquent as the memory had been. His thoughts were in pieces, he felt as if his entire body was in pieces. Every single thought was like a blow to the chest. Germany put a hand on his head, in hopes of preventing the headache that was to come. It seemed to be no use… What was happening to him?

The next letter was a significant amount of years later, just two years subsequent to the end of the second World War. _24 February 1947._

 **24 February 1947**

 **I should've known. It was 17 years ago when it happened, but I should've known.** **Who knew? Why would they do this? They're… He's going. I can't believe this. It's all my fault. I shouldn't … be the cause of this. It's not fair. It was my fault, I should take the blame; but instead, my poor brother has to suffer the consequences that should have belonged to me. I don't know what to think, or feel, or anything. I can only hope that Prussia does not suffer as horrible of a fate as I am imagining. Does he… even know..? That he's going to die tomorrow...**

Germany could not prevent his eyes from watering, his vision was beginning to blur by the tears he carried. All he could try to do was blink them away and open another letter.

This letter was the very last one, and strangely crumpled up and torn in multiple pieces. Opening it, he could see crinkles and tears along the paper, but much to his delight (rather so…), the writing was at least eligible to where he could make out the words (which was much of a surprise, especially in consideration of the fact that the writing was barely eligible on its own, as it had scribbles most of the way).

 **25 February 1947**

 **No. No no no no no no.** **He's gone. He's gone and it's all my fault. I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be alive. It's .. my fault. It's my fault it ended up like this. He's all gone and it's my fault. I shouldn't be here, my actions have caused this. He's gone and I'll never be able to see him again, see that stupid grin on his face or even hear that obnoxious laugh of his again. He wanted the best for me and I thought nothing of it in return, I should've. I'm a horrible brother and a horrible country. I don't know what to do or what to think or what to do and I don't know. I don't know what to think! I'm having a break down, my writing is becoming scribbles, it's not eligible. I shouldn't have to suffer this. The only fate I should've suffered was abolition, as Prussia had.. He was so unsuspecting of it, only focussing on the good. That idiot. I'm… disappointed in myself. I've gone against my duties as a country and more importantly, I've gone against my duties as a brother.** **This shouldn't have happened.**

 _before the abolition_

 _It was all so horrible. It was all his fault. Prussia was going to be… dissoluted. He was going to be gone. Forever. And it was all Germany's fault. Unfortunately, all Germany could do at this point was watch. There was nothing to be done, it was too late. Prussia was up on the platform, along with France, England, America, and the Soviet Union. It was said a day previous that the land would be split between the four allies: The United States of America would gain the southeast portion of the land, France would gain the southwest, Britain the northwest, and the Soviet Union, gaining the most impressive portion of land, the northeast. Or in other words, East Prussia, the only part of Prussia still remaining._

 _The four nations were onstage, discussing something so horrible so blatantly in front of the victim. All Germany could feel at this point was remorse and empathy, not even sympathy. Germany did not have to suffer this fate that he had caused; his own brother did. The same brother that raised him from when he was born, taught him how to fight, taught him how to be a great nation, and taught him how to be the person he was today. It was hard to think that in a few moments, all of that would be gone, Prussia would be gone. All that would remain are the memories which seemed so close in Germany's mind at the moment, but would soon become distant, only to pass on just as Prussia was going to. Had Prussia lived only to be forgotten?_

 _Germany looked up at the platform, up at his big brother. He was smiling again. There was a big, stupid grin attached to his face, as always. He was about to be abolished, he was going to die. Why was he smiling at a time like this?_

" _Control Council Law Number forty-six, signed on twenty-fifth February of the year 1947, liquidates the State of Prussia, its central government, and all its agencies. This law is in the nature of a confirming action; the eleven provinces and administrative districts of prewar Prussia have since the beginning of the occupation been split up among the Soviet, British, and American Zones and Poland. This law will take action once us, as well as the representing Generals of the present countries, sign this form."_

 _England began speaking next, but all Germany could do was tone it out. He didn't want to hear it. Instead, he looked at Prussia. He still had the grin on his face. It almost made Germany angry. Shouldn't Prussia be angry at him, shouldn't he be shouting at him and blaming him for all of this? Prussia's grin faltered for a short moment, then he mouthed something, eyes catching Germany's._

" _Catch."_

 _Suddenly, Germany found something flying through the air at him. The generals as well as the countries taking part of the signing were too preoccupied to notice. As the form was passed around and signed by the remaining general, Prussia's throw had landed in Germany's palm._

 _Soon, Prussia began to falter and his entire being began to flutter, as if he was turning invisible. His body as well as his face soon became blurry - Germany could only hardly tell it was him. His eyes began to tear up, he couldn't see anything. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't watch his brother's final moments of existence. Germany clenched his fist, whatever Prussia had thrown him still inside, and roughly wiped the tears out of his eyes. When his vision had finally cleared, all he could make out was that ever-present smile of Prussia's. And then he was gone._

 _Germany didn't know what to think. It… It was done. He was gone. What was to be done now? Germany closed his fist once more, just then remembering the weight laying on his palm. Slowly, he opened his fist to find what Prussia had thrown at him._

 _The Iron Cross._

 _As everyone began to clear the area and shake hands, Germany couldn't find the energy to move. He was gone; his big brother, who had cherished him and treated him as something great, was gone. Germany was nothing great. He… he had caused this, hadn't he? He was the reason he was gone._

" _It's all my fault, it's all my fault, it's all my fault," Germany repeated the words over and over again, the phrase playing in his mind in a non-stop loop._

 _It was his fault and now Prussia was gone. It was his fault and now Prussia was gone. It was his fault and now Prussia was gone. His big brother, the only person who really understood him, was gone. And it was all his fault._

 _Tears were fully flowing down his cheeks, and onto the ground. He was gone, he was gone, he was gone. It was almost like a nightmare. Except this was real life. He had caused this._

 _Strangled and broken whimpers were coming from Germany's throat, his body was shaking; he was unable to stop his tears and for once, unable to hide his emotions. He was broken down. How would he ever go on again, without his big brother?_

 _It was impossible, he had decided. He wouldn't be able to, he couldn't. To just go on with life without his brother; he… didn't think he could. It wouldn't be fair to Prussia._

 _He had heard stories of other nations and their dissolution, how they would be forgotten over time. But that day Germany made a promise. No matter how much time passes, no matter what happens, he would never forget Prussia._

As if his spirit were rejoining his body, Germany stared blankly at nothing, in complete and utter shock.

Germany was a wreck. His body was shaking sporadically, and the little noises coming from him were in tiny bursts. He didn't sound like himself, he wasn't behaving like himself.

"Prussia…," Germany spoke the name aloud. It almost felt foreign on his lips… How long ago had he forgotten? It was hard to say. It felt as if the news was still so fresh in his mind, Prussia's abolition. Although it had been over seventy years since it happened, the… flashback was so vivid, as if it were happening all over again.

All Germany could do at this point was cry. Cry for the loss of his brother, his remembrance, and a broken promise. He went through so many years without his brother, not even aware of the fact that he once did have a brother. Prussia… didn't deserve the fate that he had served. He didn't deserve a brother like Germany. He had no idea… that Germany was the reason he was no longer existing. Or maybe he did, but loved Germany too much to even mention it. Germany didn't deserve him. No matter how many things he got him out of, no matter how many happy memories they had made, it didn't matter in the end. Germany was the cause for his brother's death. He could never forgive himself for that.

As Germany clenched the tear-stained letter into his hand, all he could repeat were the same three words, as a broken record would.

" _It's all my fault."_


End file.
